The Brianna Tod  Chronicles
by Madrigal-in-training
Summary: Okay everyone knows about Pravus-to-be Vladimir Tod but do they know about his daughter? A look into the future through the diary of a teenage vamp princess whose dad is the Pravus and who might just be more than she seems. Henry's vamp guide added.
1. Chapter 1

The Brianna Tod Chronicles

Journal Entry One

August 4 

Apparently all my family members write a lot in journals so I've decided to start one today. And by that, I mean my dad threatened me with a severe grounding if I didn't have several entries made. So, there are three things you need to know about me…

One: My name's Brianna Alexandra Tod

Two: I'm fourteen although I'm so short you would never know it

Three: I'm a bloodsucking creature of the night

Oh, and my dad's ruler of the known world. I guess that makes it four things now. And Sammy wonders why I don't have a boyfriend.

I'll have to go now though. I told my French tutor, Monsieur Valios that I needed to go the bathroom and then I just snuck into an alcove to jot this down. Better go or he'll start to think weird things.

Journal Entry Two

August 6 

Okay, small hint to the future generation. Never eat a dozen blueberry waffles on a dare before you're about to be introduced formally to Countess Eliza of… well I'm not exactly sure what she's Countess of but that's not the point. I still threw up all over her! I was mortified of course but I think Daddy sort of, found it funny. He wasn't the only one either. I swear Bryan nearly broke a rib as he tried not to burst into laughter. Thanks a lot for the help Bry, really. What would I ever do without you?

I tried to help clean up the mess while frantically shouting apologies in rapid French but after having my barf sprayed all over her really expensive and useless looking dress (seriously what normal person has rhinestones hot glued to her petticoat, whatever that is) the Countess didn't exactly welcome my help. I don't think she bothered to hear my apologies either, which is probably best. My French isn't exactly top notch, y'know? Actually I might have called her a goat a few times.

Thankfully my drudge hastily muttered a few apologies (her French is tres excellente and all that) while trying valiantly not to laugh, and then swept me out of the ballroom before I could humiliate myself even further. I really have to thank Sammy for that later. I'm pretty sure she single handedly stopped what could have evolved to be a national catastrophe.

Right now I'm on my bed, in my gigantic room or well suite really, writing in this journal. I have to admit the journal looks amazing. Dad had it custom made, it's large with a dark blue velvet cover, brass locks and my name embossed on the cover with golden script. Oh wait, the door is being opened now and Bryan just came in. Sitting down, uninvited mind you, he finally starts to laugh.

"I'm glad you find it so amusing," I snapped at him, fed up with Bryan's hysterics, "I live for your endless entertainment." Bryan, being well… Bryan chooses to ignore me. It really is a pity that I can't order my dads guards to chop off his head. But if I did, I'd probably be grounded for a month.

"Oh cheer up Brie," he says, grinning at me, "Can you believe the look on Countess Eliza's plump face? I swear it was priceless!" Despite my earlier annoyance with him, I felt myself smiling. But that's Bryan for you. With wide electric green eyes, messy chestnut brown hair and perfectly tanned skin, the guy practically radiate optimism. Which is kind of weird, considering that he's, y'know a vampire and all.

If anyone could make me laugh though, than it's definitely Bryan. We've known each other since we were both toddlers stealing cookies from the head chef's pantry or climbing life-threatening heights on top of the tower. With his natural good looks, easy charm and willingness to get along with anybody, Bry was the reason we never got into any serious trouble with the servants when we were kids. Well that and the fact that my dad was the bloody Pravus and anyone who bugged me would be out of a job if I ever went and cried to Daddy.

"What happened after we left?" Sammy asked, her short, honey brown hair sweeping down to her chin. Sammy, short for Samantha, was gorgeous in a way that I had always envied. Graceful, beautiful and brilliant, she wasn't the best person to keep around if you needed a confident boost. But low self esteem aside, Sammy always helped me in any way she could and was one of my best friends. (The other being Bryan.)

She was also my drudge. For any of you clueless idiots out there (Hey, I never claimed to be polite.) that means that Sammy is a human whom I have bitten, drunk a bit of blood from, and irrevocably tied to my soul. She is now bonded to me, making me her vampire Master, and must serve me, protect me, carry out my every order, etc. But don't let that fool you, Sammy rarely listens to me and I'm not exactly a pampered little princess.

"Oh the Countess was furious," Bry replied with glee, "Last I heard your dad and my dad were trying to calm her down. Your grandfather Otis wants me to congratulate you. He thinks that it was just some really funny prank. By the way, your mum's utterly livid. I think even great aunt Em was afraid of her. I reckon you've got only hours left."

I shoved my face in my teal pillow to muffle my groan. The world has it in for me. I swear, it really does. Sammy sadly couldn't let a teen vamp moaning about her final hours in peace. I think there's a club out there for people who can't keep their nose out of my business. It's certainly not like I get much privacy around here.

"When I did Sammy, you can have my room," I announced in despair.

"Oh, you're being silly Brie," Sam said, rolling her eyes as she pulled my pillow away from me, "You'll be just fine." Easy for her to say. She's not dying before she'd even had her first boyfriend.

"After your mom kills you," Bryan asked cheerfully, "Can I have your laptop?" Seriously I don't even know why I hang out with him. I think it has something to do with the fact that his dad, Henry, was my dad's best friend/ drudge when they were younger. As soon as they grew up though, Daddy turned Uncle Henry, (Don't ask me why I call him that. We're not even related.) Into a powerful vamp, gave him a position in the new legendary Romanian Council, and basically made him my godfather.

Some really famous bloodsucking scientist invented a top-secret serum to let vamps have kids. My parents took it and… well here I am now! Let's just skip the details in between. There's only so much grossness I can stand and my parent's relationship is not one of them.

"Princess," a small, human maid with dark brown braids said anxiously as she stood by my doorway, "The queen is here to visit you." She had barley finished squeaking when my mom stormed through the door, although not literally.

A small fact about my dear mummy by the way. She can be really scary when she wants to be. I mean that she makes Napoleon look like Barney here. And she's literally stunning. The type of stunning that makes people (including me) question if I'm her daughter or not. The type of stunning that would make most males willingly cut off their right arm just to have her glance at them. I mean seriously, my mum had a career being a fashion model before she married dad.

But despite her long, raven colored hair, pale, delicate skin, petite body, and wide silver-gray eyes, she makes even the most stupid of suitors think twice before bugging her. She's really well known too. I mean marrying the Pravus and becoming queen of Romania would get anyone noticed but most people also remember her striking good looks and her intelligent, almost devious at times, mind. Oh, and her sharp tongue. People tend to recall that part about her a lot too. She's the fiery midnight sun to my dad's calm, dark moon. With the way my parents are, you'd really wonder how I turned out the way I did. (And the answer isn't adoption. I checked.)

Back to the situation here…

"-Can't believe you did something so irresponsible! Never in my life had I-" my mom continued ranting and I tuned her out for a while until she finally managed to notice, "Oh, honestly Brianna! Stop writing in that book when I'm talking to you!" Interesting point: mum's American accent tends to come out a lot when she's angry. Usually you'd hardly notice it but right now she practically screams American here.

"Young lady," my mom starts, adopting that soft, dangerous tone that immediately makes me look up at him in alarm, "You are the daughter of the Pravus, the princess of Romania, and heir to the throne. (And naturally everyone thinks that its there freaking business to remind me every five seconds.) This behavior is not to be tolerated." Um… why do I not like the sound of this?

"I've decided that because you have not shown the maturity you need," she said slowly, carefully saying each word as though I was stupid, " You will not attend the sea cruise this summer with your father and I. Instead you will continue your studies with the tutors for the remainder of the summer."

"What," I asked in horror, scrambling off my bed, "You can't do this! It's not fair

"I can and I will," adorting her silvery gray eyes from my sapphire ones," It is for your own good. I'm sorry".

Much use of her apologies was! I knew that once my mom decided something she wouldn't change her mind and it was useless to convince her otherwise. I felt my throat close up and a few salt tears sting my eyes. But I forced the despair down and made my face appear impassive. I would not cry in front of everyone. My training thought me that at least. After all being a princess meant that you had to learn how to disguise your real emotions.

My mom didn't try to comfort me; we both knew that nothing would make me feel better now. Besides my mom and me have never been that close, I was my dad's daughter through and through.

"We're visiting Nellie and Otis tonight," she added pausing at the door to look back at me. I didn't acknowledge her "sort of apology". My grandma Nellie {again not my real aunt grandma she was thought to have been killed my dad's dad, Tomas, in the past but turned out to actually be alive, and in the brink of death, no less.} wasn't a very good cook. In fact I'm being honest here, her meatloaf is another class of poison by itself.

Usually before we visit Grandma Nellie, we {and by that I mean Bryan and I} stuff up on any bloody treats and/or chocolate we can find. {Hey, even royal vamps like us can die of starvation}. Now normally my mom doesn't approve of this, (which is totally her being a hypocrite because she does the same thing we do before visiting Grandma Nellie.) and the fact that she told us now is her way of saying sorry, I suppose.

This, more than anything else, made me understand that my mum only wanted to do this to help me. I mean my mom and I may never exactly see eye to eye but I've never had to wonder if she loved me because I always she did. After carefully arranging my mask to a more optimistic one, (a look that, needless to say, isn't exactly on my face very often.) I turned to look at my friends who had witnessed my rather public humiliation.

Artfully fixing a smile on my face, I watched with amusement as Sammy quickly relaxed. She was so easy to fool that in some cases it almost felt funny. Bryan, being used to court intrigues like me, was a bit harder to fool but you don't live as a princess without learning a couple of acting tips and he slowly eased up somewhat.

"Okay," I said, looking directly at Bryan, "Who wants to help me raid the kitchens?"

**Ok, so this is my first chapter of the Brianna Tod Chronicles (starring Vladimir's daughter Brianna) and I'd really appreciate some reviews and suggestions. Constructive criticism would be great but no flames please. I made a few changes to the story such as 1) in this one Nellie is alive 2) Vlad becomes ruler of Romania 3) Henry and Vlad both get married and 4) Bryan, Henry's son, is born as some of the key changes although I think that there are more.**

**Also I'd prefer some less "get a beta because your grammar sucks comments as well." Thanks! **


	2. Chapter 2

The Brianna Tod Chronicles

Journal Entry Three

August 18 

After a very good kitchen raid, and a couple dozen white chocolate gingersnaps washed down with blood orange smoothies (I'm talking real blood here, from some really tasty French donors.) I'd cooled down somewhat. Especially when Bryan thought it would be "interesting" to shove a dozen ice cubes down my back. There are times (like these) when I wonder why I'm in love with that idiot.

…Or well not in love per se. I guess I kind of… sort of… maybe… think he's cute. Which isn't really surprising in itself. Everyone thinks Bryan's adorable. Seriously, sometimes it's totally unfair how light in the head and giddy he makes me. He just smiles at me and I feel like I've just drunk a dozen glasses of red wine. Well more like half a glass. I can't hold in my drink that well.

Anyway back to the amazing good looks that Bryan inherited. It's. Not. Fair. People as annoyingly immature as Bryan should not resemble male models. At least I can actually talk to him unlike most girls who just turn tomato red. Although I think that has more to do with the fact that he's so annoying, I end up yelling at him nearly all of the time.

I managed to survive Aunt Nellie's dinner by the way. You'd be amazed by how much food remained in the plates when dinner was over. We could have used all the food to feed half the homeless people in Romania for the week. You know, if we were into the whole mass homicide thing. I think the only people who actually bothered to eat were Grandpa Otis, to make his wife happy, and Uncle Henry who could pretty much eat anything.

Everyone, except for my dad, had heard about the dinner invite (knowing that we needed to eat a big dinner beforehand.) so we all sat politely, moving the food around in our plates and chatting genially, while my dad sat there with the most constipated look in his face. Grandpa Otis later told me that he had forgotten to eat lunch and was basically starving but he couldn't make himself eat the meatloaf. It never ceases to amuse me that my dad, the legendary Pravus, immortal by even vampire standards, is afraid of his godmothers cooking.

You're probably wondering why it has been so long since I last wrote. The simple fact is that after the dinner I was dying… of pure boredom. Mom, dad, Uncle Henry, Aunt October, pretty much everyone except me had left. Bryan, in a surprising show of friendship and loyalty, offered to stay behind to keep me company. But I didn't have the heart to ruin his vacation too, so I refused the offer. Actually I think that I might have done that because there was a chance that Bryan, completely oblivious though he may be, would find out about my um… fondness for him. If he did, than my life would be over, it really would.

I also said no to Sammy although she insisted on staying with me as well. But she really deserves a break. I mean hanging out with me, cannot be easy. Actually I think she should get paid more than the prime minister. Besides she was really looking forward to seeing her family.

After they left, I had nothing to do. No scratch that, I had studying to do which was even worse than nothing at all. But they're all coming back today! I've got to go change to meet the king and queen home from the voyage at long last and all that. I'll write later.

Journal Entry Four

August 9 

I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my-

Oops, I just broke my pencil for a minute, so I had to get another one while Sammy keeps telling me to stop whining already and get it together. Honestly, the manners of some people these days! Can't a vampire princess be allowed to forcibly vent without being interrupted by every freaking nosy idiot out there and-

Again I was interrupted. But this time it was Bryan who chose to barge into the room. I've decided not to be angry with him this time though because I am such a kind, forgiving person. Oh, and he because he brought me a cup of warm O negative with mini marshmallows bobbing on top. Ah marshmallows… the food of the gods I tell you.

Now why am I so angry? Because my mother, in all her twisted sense of genius, thought it would be utterly brilliant to throw a giant ball in honor of the crown princess! Which I'm sure is very nice and all and that some nice, sweet, normal princess would love this but hello! I can't dance! Like, at all! I inherited my dad's two left feet and even more dangerous than he could ever hope to be in a waltz because I'd be forced to wear, really high, really pointy, heels. In retrospect, you'd really think that my own mother would remember to take this safety hazard to account before she decided to host a ball.

And get this; I have to dance with every vamp dude with two working feet so I could find an "eligible suitor". Who did she think she was kidding? I'm fourteen for God's sake! I haven't even had my first boyfriend yet and besides any "eligible suitor" at the ball would be too busy drooling all over my mom while pretending not to be drooling all over my mom in case my dad was looking.

My life really sucks you know that? And not in the bloodsucking creature of the night sense. I haven't even gotten started on the dress. My mom looks good in a dress. Sammy looks good in a dress. I do not look good in a dress but they're still getting a personal one tailored even as I write this. And from the look my mom gave me when I suggested that I go in a pair of dark rinse jeans and a tank top, it's pretty clear that I won't be getting my way.

I mean, it's so obvious that my mom is dressing me up for this stupid ball because she did it when she was my age and completely loved it. And she also refuses to admit to the equally apparent fact that I would never look as good as she did. Let's face it; prom queen is not my thing. Nothing is, for that matter.

Now I'm just depressing myself. But is there anything such as too depressed for a Goth? Hmm… I'll have to ask dad later. Speaking of daddy, here he comes now. Thank god, he didn't bring his entourage. The last thing I need is for some snooty nobles to get a kick out of me sulking in my pajamas. There's only so much criticism that a princess can take before she snaps and orders a beheading.

Dad wants to talk now so I'll update later. _

**This is the second chapter of the story so I hope that everybody enjoyed it. If you don't know it by now then it's kind of obvious that each chapter will be exactly two journal entries. I hope that all of you would review the story, and give me any suggestions on how to take it farther. **


	3. Chapter 3

The Brianna Tod Chronicles

Journal Entry 5

August 9

"Have you heard of this amazing new science Brie?" Vladimir Tod asked jokingly as he looked around his daughter's room, "It's called cleaning." I groaned and tried not to smile at the same time. Even if the world were ending from lack of beauty care products, my dad would still make some lousy joke. No wait… that doesn't sound right.

"I don't want to clean," I mumbled, burying my head in my pillow. It really was soft. And it smelled like lavender. Funny the things you notice when you're dying of post Romanian inferiority complex.

"Then don't," my father answered, his voice matter-of-fact as he sat down next to me. This was completely unlike what my mom would have done if she were here. In fact, if I had ever said that to my mom she would force me to start picking up my clothes immediately. My dad's a lot more laid back though. One of the reasons why we get along so well. That, and he can appreciate a good prank.

"I don't want to go to the ball either," I announced, peeking up from the pillow for a second to see how he would react. No luck, dad's face was incomprehensible.

Hey. I finally used one of the big vocabulary words from my English Language class. Maybe I can become an English teacher instead of a princess. Oh, whom am I kidding? I'm about as likely to become an English teacher as Bryan. Actually I think I'm worse. That said, my prospects not that good for my self-esteem. Or my report card.

"Your mother would appreciate it, if you agreed to go to the ball," Vladimir Tod said quietly, his pale face masked and emotionless even as he looked at his only daughter. I hate him. I really do. If he was a normal father and yelled at me for not going than I could sulk in good conscience.

But no, he had to feel that I deserved some freedom of choice because I was a "growing lady" (his words not mine) and ask me for my opinion. You know, I almost wish that he would demand that I go to the ball, instead of being so nice to me. It's a totally unfair tactic of guilt inducing and the worst part is that he's doing it because he thinks that it's the right thing to do. Damn him for his morals!

"Fine, I'll go," I sighed into the pillow.

"What did you say?" my father asked innocently, not quite hiding the small flickers of a smile at the edge of his lips.

"I'll go to the bloody ball!" I said again, my voice a bit louder this time before I slumped into the pillow. And the sad part was that I even felt a little exited at going.

Journal Entry Six

August 15

I looked beautiful. I looked amazing. I looked-

"Like my mom," I whispered in shock, the words coming out of my voice involuntarily. The maid who was pinning up my dress looked at me in confusion before I told her to continue with her work. It had been nearly a week since I first agreed to go to the dance and the servants had been working hard.

Invitations, written on creamy, heavy parchment using crimson ink had already been sent out and over the next few days, replies had been coming into the castle with acceptances written on them. The castle chef, a really snippy man who can make a wicked dish with creatively used blood, had already prepared the menu and main course while servants were decorating the ballroom. I'm not allowed to go in there and see it though. Dad wants me to be stunned when I first step into the ballroom, a sentiment that I can't get myself to agree on. In my surprise, the less surprise involved, the better.

My maids had also started preparation on my dress, which, now that I think about it, looks amazing. It was a strapless, sleeveless dress made of dark midnight blue silk that had shards of a lighter silk that shimmered a pale sapphire hue when the light hit it. The dress draped over my form perfectly, as though it was made for me, which it actually was and showed off some curves that I didn't even know I had, while still seeming sheltered.

My hair was like a dark, wavy curtain falling down over my back and framing my pale oval face. Small white rosebuds were tucked in behind my ears and I wore midnight blue slippers. (No strappy heels, thank god!) My face had minimal make-up, only a bit of mascara, creamy peach lip-gloss, and silver eye shadow that made my sapphire blue eyes seem bigger and brighter.

When I looked at mussel in the mirror, it almost seemed like a stranger was peeking back at me. The shy, beautiful girl in the mirror looked so much like my mother with her raven colored hair and pale, aristocratic features. For a minute I even felt a little happy that my mother was throwing a ball in my honor. And then Bryan came in.

"Hey Brie, your mum wants to know if your ready for the dance," Bryan said casually as he walked into the room. A minute later he caught sight of me and literally stopped mid step, his striking electric green eyes wide with the glassy look of shock and his jaw hanging down in an impressive display of a spotted blowfish.

"B-brie?" Bryan asked, looking surprised as a small blush crept up his face, "Is that you?" Oh great. Bryan was so unused to seeing me in anything but jeans and a T-shirt that he looked flabbergasted (another English word here! I'm on a roll!) at the sight of me in a dress.

I'm still not sure whether I should be flattered or insulted.

So instead I just opted for the risk free answer of ignoring Bryan and stalked out of the room, head held high. So high in fact that I walked straight into my mom! As Samantha would say, my aptitude for jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire is amazing, it really is.

"Brianna?" my moms voice stopped me cold. It sounded… proud actually and happy. Two sounds that I don't think I've ever heard together in my mom's voice, not directed at me anyway. If I knew that wearing an awesome dress would have earned me my moms approval that I would have become a Barbie doll ages ago.

"Sweetheart, you look beautiful!" my mom gushed; beaming at me, not kidding my mum seriously glowed here. Then, in a move that shocked me to the core, my mom hugged me. I mean seriously put her two arms around me and pulled me close to her. I'm not saying she never hugged me in my entire existence or that I've never known that my mom genuinely felt proud of me but whenever she did show her approval… well, it was kind of surprising.

And I really like that hug, not in the whole starved of my mom's affection or anything, but in the way that it felt comfortable. It just felt right to be surrounded by the scent of rosebuds, and fresh snowflakes, which were my mom's namesake, and something darker, with an edge like death embracing me, like a warm cocoon… and now I sound like a sentimental idiot, don't I? Just ignore the last paragraph please.

"I have something to give you," my mom said as she released me and put her had inside her pocket. A second later, she took out a beautiful velvet box of the purest black I've ever seen and opened it. Inside laid a sapphire pendent where a rose with a sword below it was etched painstakingly into the smoothly cut gem with perfection. The sword was made of dark sapphire, almost black with a hilt of sterling and inlaid with pearls. The rose by contrast was made of light pale blue coral where, if you looked closely, you could see my name inscribed on the petals in tiny Romanian gold ink over a million times.

I swear it was he most perfect thing I'd ever seen.

"It's beautiful," I said truthfully, although the word seemed far too inadequate to compare with the dazzling jewelry in my moms hand. She smiled at me, understanding the rare and unmistakable beauty of the gem. Then she leaned forward and placed the clasp around my shoulder so that it would come to nestle softly against the pale hollow of my neck. I knew the jewel was for me, that was why my mom had shown it to me on this night of all nights of course, but I still felt a strange thrill of triumph as I received the gift.

"The stone is unique," my mother explained, reading my emotions once again with her vampire senses, "Imbued with the rare power of my blood and the true essence of your father's priceless immortality, it will protect you for many years to come and only you, my dear, can wear the gem. Every edge of the jewel is pure and inscribed with ancient vampire runes for protection, happiness, strength, wisdom, and eternal life. The front has the royal insignia on it, the sword and the rose. A perfect necklace for the princess, no?"

"Yes," I murmured, my eyes still admiring my gift, "It's perfect. Thank you." If I wasn't so busy obsessing over the jewelry I might have wondered what it was that made my parents think I needed this type of protection and from whom.

"No," my mother replied, sounding slightly forlorn, as she shook her head, "Do not thank me. It is your birthright. Make your father and I proud at the dance." I cocked my head, the sound of hundreds of guests arriving, wafting up to my vampire senses as I smiled up at my mom.

"I will," I answered, "Promise." Well no getting out of it now. It's time to go attend the dance.


	4. Chapter 4

The Brianna Tod Chronicles

Journal Entry Seven 

August 15 (Midnight)

I. Am. So. Bored. The food is rich, Romanian cuisine, most of them seriously vamped out with warm, tasty blood. The ballroom looked beautiful, in an England Victorian era turned post gothic fairytale kind of way. Heavy drapes of dark burgundy framed the large windows, opened to allow moonlight to stream in through the stained glass panes. Delicate silver cobwebs were artfully draped across the walls and the candles, which were put in place of light bulbs, on the giant chandelier illuminated the dance floor with an ethereal glow. It was completely gothic in every way and I loved it.

The only problem was the guests. Annoying idiots, the whole lot of them, as Bryan said. I think this is the fifth, old, nosy woman in bright taffeta pink that- believe me on this- does not flatter her figure, I've met today. After the small um… incident with Countess Eliza, she seemed to be avoiding me. Not that I'm complaining here, it's one less super long name and even more ridiculously longer title for me to remember. Actually I've met so many counts, countesses, barons, marquises, lords and ladies today that I'm afraid "How do you do?" and "It is quite a pleasure to meet you" Is all I'll be able to say in life.

And mom got some brilliant idea in her head that involved me dancing. Before I had time to protest- or better yet, run away- she pushed me toward some son of a count creep, Timmy, Timothy, Tommy… well, something like that and told me to dance with him. I don't think I've ever met such a parasite before in my life. And I grew up with vampires.

We danced, or well ungracefully swayed to the music, when he tried to engage me to conversation. God, he was worse than Monsieur Valois, my French tutor! He probably just liked me in the sight of a dress and tried to impress me by droning about badminton this, badminton that, how amazing he was at the game, etc. I didn't even know what they do at that game so I had to keep smiling and nodding every few seconds while trying not to fidget under all the gazes' people shot at me. Who knew being pretty would be so annoying?

Mostly though his eyes seemed glued to my mother, especially in the chest area. Now, I just want to say, that everyone knows how bad I am at dancing so I might have stepped on his foot a couple of times, or well very time he tried to twirl me. Try being the operative word. Can you say "oops"?

In my defense I really do have two left feet.

When his hand started to wander a little to close for liking though, I just stepped away and casually walked off the dance floor. In retrospect, leaving him gaping alone in the middle of a dance with every guest gawking at him shamelessly might not have been the most elegant way to do it and I'd probably get yelled for it later but I really was fed up.

So I just headed for a secluded balcony at the dark edge of the ballroom where no one was sure to see me and stepped through the fray wall hanging that hung like a gossamer veil between freedom and me. It was one of the many secret hideouts that this castle was equipped with and that I only knew of as I found it in my usual explorations that I had in my frequent bouts of pure boredom.

It was there, that I saw him.

Journal Entry Eight 

Midnight Continued

The first thing I noticed was how still he was. Like a statue that was frozen for eternity under Medusa's horrible stare. Okay, maybe that wasn't the most optimistic version but hello, princess of the night that had nearly just been respectfully raped here. Well if it's possible to be respectfully raped anyway. Or maybe it's "politely raped".

… Those therapist sessions Bryan had hinted at are looking more and more realistic every day.

But really that was the first thing I noticed. He had his back turned to me but I guess he was a vamp because the second I'd quietly entered, he turned around with a look of complete shock on his face. I don't know if it was because of the entire quart O negative I'd drunk (So sue me, how do you think I'd managed to tolerate Timmy- what's- his- name without the help of a little blood?) or whether the vapors from the party were starting to get to my head, but I didn't run like hell was chasing me- and being a bloodsucker, that might even be possible. Instead I started to take to him.

"You look like a mime," I informed him, giggling ast the image of him in a mime suit that popped into my head, "And you're invading by sanctuary." You know, having drunk that fourth cup of AB negative didn't seem like the smartest idea I could have had in retrospect. My fuzzy head and somersaulting stomach seemed to agree with me. While I was taking into account the pros and cons of fainting verses throwing up, mime dude got control of himself.

"Er… princess," he began formally, making me turn to look at him, "What are you doing out here?" God, he sounded so stiff and awkward. And this is precisely the reason why my only friends are Sam and Bryan. Everyone else just freaks out when they learn that the legendary, immortal, Pravus is the guy I call Daddy.

"What are you doing here?" I retorted, folding my arms. Only someone with my extraordinary luck could get away from one self-absorbed, annoying male jerk and find another in less than three minutes.

"Excuse me?" the guy said, narrowing his eyes, "I was here first your majesty." Wait is that sarcasm? I think he's the first guy my age (other than Bryan, and he doesn't count) who ever made fun of my royal status. Suddenly, I'm feeling a whole lot better. Funny, how an insult can do that to you.

"You were," I agreed cheerfully, much to his surprise. He probably expected me to get angry, call my fathers guards, and have him thrown into the dungeon.

"Okay…" he faltered, and then decided not to press his luck on how angry I could get, "If you'll excuse me then, Princess…"

"No," I replied, stepping around him and heading toward the balcony. It had a beautiful view out to the lake, behind the castle. The dark water sparkled, mysterious and enchanting under the moon's glow, but I didn't stop to enjoy the view. My ears were tensed so I head the boy pause on the doorway, hesitating.

"Excuse me?" he asked again, the tension unmistakable.

"No, you're not excused," I verified, smiling slightly, "I would like to talk to you." It wasn't a direct order technically, so he was still free to refuse, but the meaning was implied nonetheless. It may be completely rude and abusing my power, but no sane vampire would dare reject it. Just as I expected, the guest stayed on the balcony, unwilling but not running.

"What would you want to talk to me about?" he asked hesitantly, although his curiosity was unmistakable despite his attempt to hide it.

"Anything really," I replied casually, "I'm not acquainted with many people. So let's start with the basics. What's your name?"

"Nathan," he answered, too shocked by my strange request to do anything but reply.

"I'm Brianna," I said, turning around to look at him, "Although judging by your reaction earlier, I take it you already knew that."

"It's hard not to know the princess," he replied dryly, "Why are you here in the balcony when you could be dancing?" I shuddered at the thought.

"You don't like it?" Nathan asked, noticing my shudder and trying not to laugh, "I never knew dancing the waltz was so painful. You must be horrified."

"Don't laugh," I said sullenly, glaring at his smiling face, "I'll have you know that it is horrifying when you're stuck with a dancer who's probably insane and a complete pervert. Not to mention, who can't dance. I'll be scarred for life you know."

"I'm so sorry," he replied, solemnly, "You must be traumatized. Please, allow me to save you from loosing your love of the noble art of dance." I cocked my head to the side, torn between disbelief and amusement

"Are you asking me to dance?" I finally asked, throwing back my head and letting a bubbling laugh escape my lips, "That has to be the most ridiculous offer, I've ever received!"

"I suppose it would be," he admitted, smiling a bit, "But will you accept mine?"

"It would be my pleasure," I answered in a faux haughty voice, using the reply that Blaire, my mom's really annoying human secretary advised me for. Luckily, he seemed to understand the snotty tone and laughed along with me.

As he led me through the balcony and toward the ballroom center, practically everyone began gawking at me in an entirely shameless manner. For a minute I was a bit confused as to why they insisted on staring at me. I mean, sure I was a princess, but I wasn't that interesting. People who wanted an exciting royal went to go find Bryan, not me. Then the answer came to me, and I felt like a complete idiot for being so conceited to think it was me they were staring at. It was Nathan, who captured their attention.

When I figured that out, I looked curiously up at the face of my new dancing partner. He was tall and slender, with raven black hair that looked impossibly soft like silk, possibly and high cheekbones. He gave off a feeling of elegance and importance, like a person who was used to things going his own way and the shadows obscured the sharp panes of his face, giving him a rather mysterious look. He was entirely at ease, in a way that I could never replicate, with all the attention bestowed upon him. He acted like it was only natural and to be expected, just like Bryan would have.

He was handsome certainly but a lot of people could be and that certainly didn't attribute to all the staring or the reason why the room suddenly hushed its whispers when he stopped and turned to face me. With a small smile on his face, as he completely ignored the captive audience that looked expectantly at us, he held out his hand and allowed me to take it. A small isolated part of me, quietly noted that no other dancers came on to the floor as he slid his other hand around my waist and a tune started playing.

But an even bigger part of me was mesmerized as I stared into his eyes. They were possibly the most unique shade of blue I've ever seen. A frozen glacier blue ringed around with a center of slate gray, they seemed capable of being both chilly and cruel or kind and warm. Now though, they were lighted with amusement as he twirled me around, his steps so effortless and graceful like a predators that I didn't have to do a thing, as the songs tune began dancing in my ears.

_**Is this a dream?**__**If it is**_

_**Please don't wake me from this high**_

_**I'd become comfortably numb**_

_**Until you opened up my eyes**_

_**To what it's like**__**when everything's right**_

_**I can't believe you found me**_

_**When no one else was lookin'**_

_**How did you know just where I would be?**_

_**Yeah, you broke through**_

_**All of my confusion**_

_**The ups and the downs**_

_**And you still didn't leave**_

_**I guess that you saw what nobody could see**_

_**You found me.**__**You found me**_

_**So, here we are**_

_**That's pretty far**_

_**When you think of where we've been**_

_**No going back**__**I'm fading out**_

_**All that has faded me within**_

_**You're by my side**_

_**Now everything's fine**_

_**I can't believe**__**you found me**_

_**When no one else was lookin'**_

_**How did you know just where I would be?**_

_**Yeah, you broke through**_

_**All of my confusion**_

_**The ups and the downs**_

_**And you still didn't leave**_

_**I guess that you saw what nobody could see**_

_**You found me. You found me **_

The song was over far too early in my opinion. After what seemed only like a blissful, perfect moment he slid to a poised stop and lowered me down to the cold marble floor. My breath, for some reason, was coming out a bit ragged and despite the fact that I couldn't see, I knew a rosy blush must have been creeping up my frequently pale face. Knowing that made me blush even harder until I was sure that I would resemble a tomato. I let my arms release from around his neck until it came to rest, limp, at my sides.

When I turned around to look at the other surprisingly silent guests, my face restlessly swept over the quiet guests and came to rest on the only emotion filled face in the darkened room. There, leaning against the pillar, with a scowl marring his handsome face and his hands clenched to his sides was the furious form of Bryan. His electric green eyes met mine for only moments, making me feel horribly confused as I stood there, before he turned around and walked away without a backward glance. For a minute though, for even the barest flicker, I think I saw regret flash in their dazzling shades.

I stood there for a minute longer, unsure on whether or not I should follow him or stay at the dance with Nathan, before suddenly turning around and rushing into my room. I didn't know what was going on with me, but I just couldn't, _wouldn't _stay at the dance for one more minute. I didn't think I could face the expression on anyone's face now. _

_**Okay, I am so, so sorry for taking so long to post the next chapter. I'll make it up by adding a surprise element to the story next! **_


	5. Chapter 5

The Brianna Tod Chronicles

Chapter 5 

I was looking through a couple of my dad's old journals the other day when I fond a small booklet made by Uncle Henry when he was still a kid actually (this was after he had been turned). After reading the booklet (and nearly dying of laughter) I've decided to paste a couple of sections from the book into this journal between every few of my journal entries. Hope you enjoy this. I certainly did.

_**The Vampires Guide to the Human Race**_

_**In the Voice of Henry McMillan: Youngest Vampire Advisor to the Royal Pravus aka my best friend, Vlad. **_

_**Okay, everyone would make a guide for humans to survive the bloodsucker race but why doesn't anyone make a guide for the vamps? Poor bloodsuckers like me have to deal with conniving little mortal girls cunningly ensnaring us to be slaves of their hearts by tempting us with the delicious elixir of potent life's blood that they offer. And people say, **__**we're**__** the parasites here. Seriously, do these girls have any shame? **_

_**So I have decided to remedy that with a proper guide to warn, sweet innocent vampires away from the cruelty and overpriced Starbucks that is the human race. Now if you're a confused young creature of the night who is unsure as to whether or not he should love the clumsy, new mortal girl with a penchant for blushing who just moved across town, then you should check this guide before making your choice. Because once you've marked an irritating human with the most coveted mark of the night… well than life just bites, quite literally. **_

_**Ten Reasons Why Loving A Mortal Sucks**_

_**They can't really run. Or jump. Or walk. Or… anything really, that would compare to vamps. Good-bye to Olympic tryouts and midnight runs if you decide to date a slow mortal. If you're the sporty type than the human's just going to cramp your style.**_

_**Humans are okay looking, I guess. I mean if you squint, really, **__**really**__** hard and maybe squirt some garlic juice into your eyes than you may possible be able to ignore the pockmarked features, lanky hair, and overly large nose. Of course, that might make it a tad bit annoying if you walk into doors all the time, but everything's worth it in the name of love, right?**_

_**Wrong! Why waste your time with a fashion disaster mortal when you could take long midnight walks in the graveyard with a flawless, pale, gorgeous, undead vampire of your dreams?**_

_**Humans are kind of picky about letting you drink their blood. Even if you were dying of thirst from lack of precious O positive, then they'd still whine on needlessly before they let you have a sip of there, usually lukewarm, crimson blood. And what's the point of dating a human if you don't even get your own personal blood bank out of the deal? Not to mention their endless whining totally ruins the appetite. **_

_**Humans are completely narrow-minded. You drink one freaking pint of AB negative in front of them and suddenly you have to spend the next six hours being lectured by tour date. Forget the fact that mortals consider making high tech nuclear weapons "okay" and find that bombing each other on a daily basis enjoyable. (Not to mention killing hundreds of puny mortals as they waste a good supply of food, here. I mean hello, where else are vampires going to get all this free blood? Wal-Mart?) Forget the fact that they backbite, lie, cheat and adore eating slaughtered baby animals. They're much worse than any vampire. At least when it comes to the vamps, we're honest about belonging in eternal damnation. **_

_**Another major issue with humans. They waste their energies so quickly. By three o'clock in the night, they'll start yawning. By three thirty A.M. they're happy in snooze land. You convince them to go one night without sleeping and they need at least eight espressos to stay up in the morning. Also they **__**snore.**___

_**Mortals have no sense f beauty. You make epic two hundred pages poems about the shadows of the night and the end of the Apocalypse in which everyone will die a horrifying, slow, painful death. Then you make the mistake of reading it to them in a moonlit graveyard with the sounds of baying wolves howling in the wind as background music and they just whine about how it's too cold or how the stone crypt isn't soft enough. They're so cheery and perky and pink that it makes me want to loose my A positive. It's just not right, I tell you. **_

_**Humans are so disgustingly fragile. Get run over by a car, they cry. Get thrown off a building, they break up with you. You try to kiss them and you have to hold back because you might accidentally break every bone in their face. Honestly, is there anything humans can do? **_

_**She's not exactly the type of girl you can bring home to have dinner with your parents. The key word being that they will consider **__**her**__** dinner. You think it was Edward's fault that Jasper tied to kill Bella in New Moon? Well it wasn't. It was Bella's fault for practically covering herself in lemon juice and hanging a sign over her head that says "I'm a big juicy human hamburger! Eat me!" How could poor, hungry Jasper resist? Now repeat after me: Humans Are **__**Food.**__** Does a mortal date its turkey sandwich? No. So we really shouldn't date humans either. It's really a matter of perspective, if you think about it. **_

_**Another reason would be that humans attract trouble. Seriously, date a human and you'll have to worry about rival vampire hunters, Volturi, annoying humans, and even a pack of local werewolves! And who wants to hang out with **__**those?**__** Believe me, it's just not worth it. **_

_**So these are a few of the major reasons why you should never date a human. Naturally there are a lot more to offer but these are some of the most important. So before you begin dating the so-called love of your life and introduce her to your undead siblings, think on whether or not the human should really be kissed or killed. **_


	6. Chapter 6

The Brianna Tod Chronicles

Journal Entry Nine

Continued

Like any good drudge, Samantha had to follow. I was lying down on my soft coverlet, the tears that were hopelessly falling from my traitorous eyes staining my cheeks and silken lavender pillow. It was a good thing that I wasn't wearing much make up because if I had it would have tarnished my clothes by now. I had no idea how I felt but my body seemed to and I continued to cry without any idea as to why I was doing so.

When I first felt a cool hand touch my shoulder, I tensed involuntarily as my panic flared up. Just as I was debating over flight or fight, my blood connection with my drudge spiked, filling me with thoughts of concern and worry. That bond, and the scent of juniper blossoms and fresh oranges that seemed to follow her everywhere, helped calm me down when I turned to face Sammy.

"I don't want to talk now," I snapped, feeling guilt in the pit of my stomach as Sammy winced. I softened the edge on my voice as I added, "Please go away now."

"No," Sammy answered without hesitation, "You need my help and I'm staying." Just a small note here, Sammy, like Bryan, has no problem ignoring my orders even though I'm technically the princess and she's supposedly my bonded human servant. This casual independence is why I both admire and abhor my drudge.

"Why?" I asked bitterly, "Do you want me to burst into tears and tell you all about my life troubles, like you're my bloody shrink? Well you're not and I don't want to. You have no idea what it's like to be me!"

My small outburst just wanted me to bury my head in further. Believe me, I knew that I was acting like a spoiled royal brat here, a kid used to getting everything she wants, like the general masse seem to think I am. I knew that I sounded like a complete bitch, railing on my best friend even though she was kind enough to come and help me when I needed her most. But the dam was just broken and I couldn't hold it in even if I tried. I was so tired of having to always bottle up my feelings that this small bit of drama seemed ideal.

"You have nothing to worry about!" I continued, my voice almost to the point of shouting although I felt horrible for every word I said, "Your life is always so perfect. You don't have to worry about being useless to everybody! All of my fathers courtiers think I'm just some silly, vapid girl unfit ton ever take the crown. Don't you think I get that? Well I do, and I know I can't measure up!"

I felt even more horrible now if that was possible. Sammy was my best friend but I'd never shared all of the insecurities I felt with her before. How afraid I was to be the princess. How I was never sure that I could measure up to the world's expectations. How I didn't want to be a disappointment to my parents forever. Now in one moment, I just blurted out everything I was afraid of.

"You're right. I don't know what it's like," Sammy agreed gently, settling down on the bed beside me, "Although I always did think it was amazing the way you and Bryan always dealt with being royal."

I looked at her in disbelief. Who was she kidding? Bryan was the perfect royal maybe but I didn't even come close. Where was she when I made all of my mistakes?

"Are you serious?" I asked cautiously, looking into her face. But Samantha looked completely genuine as she looked back at me.

"Of course," Sammy answered quietly, "You're always on op of things. Whenever your dad or Mr. McMillan discuss politics at the dinner table, you always know what they're talking about. God, you even find it _interesting_. I don't have a single idea what they're saying but to you and Bryan it's like one plus one equals two. You always know what to do in any situation and you're completely down-to-Earth even though the legendary Vladimir Tod is your father. You don't judge people on whether or not they're royal."

"Really?" I smiled as Sammy folded her long, graceful legs beneath her and flicked her honey brown hair away from her golden skin.

"Yeah," Sammy admitted, "You were born to be a royal whether you like it or not. You just have that outer… presence or something that makes you seem so important. People are always curious about you but you don't care even if everyone stares at you. I was so jealous of that."

"You?" I asked, incredulous, "But you're perfect! Everything you do ends up perfect. You're pretty and kind and smart and you can speak amazing French…"

"Maybe," Sammy shrugged like it didn't matter although I could see the small smile on her face, "Brianna have you ever seen yourself? When you were dancing that night, with everyone looking at you in awe and admiration… Brie, I've never seen anyone look more like a princess than you did then."

"Don't be silly," I frowned, feeling confused, "What's so important about me dancing with Nathan? I mean sure I didn't trip and that itself was a miracle but…"I trailed off as I saw Sammy gape at me.

"Nathan?" she gasped, looking shocked, "You called him Nathan? Brianna do you even know who he _is?"_

"Um… no," I asked looking puzzled, "Is this something I'm supposed to know?" Samantha looked at me like I was nuts and muttered something rather rude toward my tutors under her breath. I would have written it here but… well, a princess really shouldn't say such things.

"Yes, it's something you should know!" Sammy exclaimed, looking annoyed, "Honestly Brianna, you can be so oblivious sometimes. Nathan as you call him is _Nathaniel Evans_ and you danced wit him!"

"Oh," I said, feeling rather stupid, "And, um… who is Nathaniel Evans again?"

"Your lack of knowledge is astounds me, princess," Sammy finally said, as she shook herself out of her shock filled reverie, "I feel so safe now that I know someone with you vast reserves of awareness will one day lead me."

"Okay, so maybe I'm not the smartest person around," I said crossly, "And maybe it wouldn't hurt for me to crack open a couple of books but that's beside the point. Who is Nathaniel Evans?"

"He's the grandson of Dorian," she answered simply. My eyes widened, sapphire hues irises blanking in shock as I fought to keep my mouth closed. Years of royal training were on my side though so luckily I didn't end up gaping. Even with my inarticulate state, I knew whom Sammy was talking about.

Everyone, human or vampire, knew about Dorian, Keeper of the Prophecy.

"And…" Sammy added, grinning, "He's known to be quite picky when it come to his dances. I don't think he's ever danced with someone this year."

"No one?" I asked, blushing and wondering why I was so eager to know, "Doesn't he have a girlfriend?" Samantha laughed before she answered my question.

"Nope. You have to be amazing to catch his eye and even the few who were lucky enough to do so, do not keep it for long. Nathaniel's important and desired enough that he can remain cold and aloof but it won't effect his social status."

"Oh," I said, feeling inadequate as I struggled to add in halfheartedly, "So he's a player?"

"Not really," Sammy shrugged, like it should have been obvious, "Being a player would entail that you actually had to show _some_ level of interesting someone. But Nathaniel doesn't just date someone and ditch them, he doesn't date at all."

"He must have just been dancing with me because I was a princess then," I muttered, feeling oddly dejected, "I guess that should have been obvious."

"Don't be silly," Sammy said, looking indignant as though I'd insulted her personally, and "He was dancing with _my_ best friend because she was the most beautiful, charming, funny person there Not because she was royal."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. Samantha looked like she was just mortally offended by the intuition that Nathan only felt obligated to dance with her supposed vampire master because… I was well… a _princess._

"I seriously doubt that," I snickered, rising up a hand to pause Samantha's arguments, "But even if that was the case… why was Bryan so furious? You'd think I called him a human- no offense Sammy- instead of just dancing with someone."

"It wasn't because you were dancing with someone," Sammy corrected, shaking her head so that her auburn curls went flying, "It was because you enjoyed it."

That was when all hell exploded.

Journal Entry Ten

Sometime after 4 o'clock in the morning

I'm in the infirmary right now, writing in the journal as a bunch of physicians flutter up and down the room, trying to help the "crown princess." I swear if I was so much as to sneeze right now, a dozen of those idiots would wheel me straight to the surgery room. How they became the official royal doctors is a mystery to me.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I should go back to the beginning. It'll be best to write down the details while they're still fresh in my mind as Sammy goes to get me a cup of A positive. So it happened like this…

The sound of glass breaking was the first thing that reached my ears. I don't know what object was thrown but it must have been sharp because it cut through glass like a knife slips through water. Shards, glinting silver like diamonds against the plush carpet, littered the floor and the ringing chime of glass breaking hung suspended in the air.

It only lasted a second, and I stared at the glass, unsure of what I should do, before Sammy's terrified scream rang in my ear. Groping into the dark, I quickly grabbed her slender hand, trying not to pull it back as she squeezed it as hard as to almost cut off all circulation. We sat, like terrified children experiencing a thunder storm, before an explosion tore through the air below us.

I don't know why that unfroze me just then but it did. I jumped out of bed and sprinted toward the window, pulling a meek Samantha behind me. Shards of the glass cut at my feet, but I ignored the splatters of dark blood- my blood- staining the rug as I strained to see what was going on below.

Even with my sharpened vampire senses, I had trouble piercing through the gloom to get a good look at the chaos below. Finally though my eyes did adjust to the dim lighting as I got a glimpse of a dark figure running across the grass. I squinted closer to get a better look and nearly fell out of the window in shock.

It might have just been hours but I knew those features! The sharp cheekbones, the midnight colored hair, even the smooth, loping run… what was Nathan doing down there? I let my eyes skim the ground, flitting over the spreading fire consuming the trees although I wanted to see where Nathan was going.

Several dark shapes were in stark relief against the scarlet flames, most likely courtiers trying to put them out. Bryan's distinct chestnut brown head could be seen among them and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out a warning. My stomach clenched but I kept my mouth shut as he tried to help stop the flames. Fire was one of the vampires few weaknesses and I couldn't distract him at this crucial point.

I didn't know how long I stood there, probably in shock, before several guards followed by a couple of medics barged into my room. Ignoring my questions and protests, they just hurried me out if the room and into a medical facility as doctors rushed out to help me.

After an hour of annoying checkups, I finally got the idiot to leave when I threatened to have his head on a pike by noon. Now I was just sitting here, jotting it all down as I wait for Sammy to bring me back my cup of blood. A knock on the door made me look up but before I could tell them to come in, a tall figure barged through the door. It wasn't Samantha.

"We need to talk," Bryan said, looking at me.


	7. Chapter 7

**An Excerpt from the Henry McMillan Vampire Guide **

**Now if you are stupid enough to completely disregard my advice and date a human anyway, these are the signs that tell you when to cut the passion and cut her throat. Does your human love: **

**Hang out too often with the local pack of werewolves? Now here's where the alarm bells and I- told- you- so, I- told- you- so, I- told- you- so, I- told- you- so's start. Now if your mortal date decides to ditch you in favor of a flea bitten mutt, you should… dump her in favor of another? No! If she decides she's not interested, make her interested! Send flowers, make poems, hold open the door for her as she walks by… anything! When you know her heart is fully yours again like it rightfully should be, and **_**then**_** you can dump her. After breaking her life and ruining her life (a few nasty rumors could help too) then you should kill her. **

**If you're human love decides that spending time with her friends is better than making googly eyes at you, then action must be made! I would propose doing nothing in front of her while secretly dating her best friend behind her back. Then, when your sure her BFF is smitten with you, invite your girlfriend over to a public place (a crowded café would be ideal) and make her BFF choose between the girl and you. When the girl does pick you, make sure to have a couple of pictures taken of your now ex's messy, humiliating, and heartbroken break up and post the pictures on Facebook. On the off chance that the girl actually picks her best friend, kill everyone in the café and bleed them dry. The least you could do is get a satisfying meal out of this. **

**The first few months of dating are like one big happy honeymoon. Well a honeymoon hat includes rival vampires, annoying werewolves, and one overprotective mortal dad but still. By the time your dinner's- I mean girlfriend's- birthday rolls up, you might notice a few odd signs that would indicate a growing problem. Does she frequently check the mirror for premature wrinkles? Does she put on face cream or Botox on her face before her dates? Does she get increasingly snappy whenever you mention the future? Does she demand that you make her an immortal already? Well those are undoubtedly signs that your human love is growing old. And I mean wrinkles on the face, whitening hair, and bad back type of old. If this happens, just kill her. Nothing flashy is needed. It's for the best. **

**The final and worse scenario that can happen is if your love becomes a slayer. No, you did not read this wrong. "But she loves me," you may protest, "She'd never hurt me." News flash little vamps. Humans **_**love**_** hurting one another. Now being the cocky, know- it- all vampire that you are, you may say there's no way in hell- or Earth- that a human can kill you. Well guess what? That's not a human, that's a slayer. And yes, there's a difference. The most crucial one being the stake she'll be holding to your chest. Now if you're in this situation (poor you), there's only three things you can do. One: Run. Two: Run fast. Three: Run **_**faster**_**. One slayer may not be that much trouble. But the ten she'll have on speed dial definitely will be. **


	8. Chapter 8

**An Excerpt from Henry McMillan's Journal**

**Knowing from personal experience how stubborn vampires can be, not to mention the frequent bouts of moodiness Vlad has every other day; I know that you probably won't listen to me. So if your going to date a human girl anyway let me tell you about the different varieties you have at your disposal. **

**The most common type that vampires date seems to be the new, often clumsy girl at school. Believe me that girl is destined for life and death, mostly death, attempts. She's sure to be independent enough to get into all kinds of trouble but dependant enough that she expects you to get up from your relaxing nap in the coffin to save her from them. So unless you like cold sterile rooms, bright fluorescent lights, and the heavy, slightly nauseous smell of antiseptic in an emergency room, I'd advise you to ditch the girl. **

**Another type is the strong, adventurous, tomboy with a spirit for danger. You might find her fearless pursuits amusing for a time but sooner rather than later it will get a bit tedious to run after her all the time. And that type of girl is always, and I mean _always_, a ticking time bomb. Soon dating the handsome devil of the undead will become a little too tame. These girls are always the ones who would go leave a guy and take up a stake. And a relationship with a slayer? Yeah, it never works out. **

**You might consider dating an Emo or a Goth. This might just be the stupidest thing you've ever done. No, I correct that. Dating a human girl is probably the stupidest thing you've ever done. Still the dating an Emo or Goth girl is pretty high up there on the stupid chart. I know the idea of dating a girl wearing all black is tempting. Black is very slimming after all. You would be the coolest couple of the shadows! The king and queen of the undead! I get that. I really do. Hell, I'd even married a girl like that. The one difference between October and any girl you might like though is that my wife isn't all that depressing. But a regular Goth girl?**

**Well, let's just say that there parents sign them up to a shrink for a reason. **

**The next rung on the relationship ladder is definitely the preppy, usually blond, pink clad socialite with no soul. Trust me when I say this, you do _not _want to go there. My best friend, Vampire Master and Legendary Pravus, Vladimir Tod, fell for one a couple of years ago. Was dating Meredith the best thing that ever happened to him? Not so much. And we're supposed to be the damned over here. Let me just tell you, the Barbie look-a-likes have got us beat. Honestly, I'm just glad that my cousin, Jose the resident ex-vampire slayer, finally broke up with her. **

**The girl's friend, Miranda or Melissa or something like that, tried to hook up with me again a couple of years ago. This incidentally was right after Vlad declared me a member of the all-powerful Romanian Vampire Council. I'm just glad no vamp was stupid enough to turn _her_ into an undead creature of the night. Like I needed that type of annoyance for eternity.**

**The fact remains though that this type of girl isn't very appealing in general. Their lives are just so seemingly perfect in the human world that they can't handle it if you turn out to be a vampire. Even if they did continue to date you after that small, little tidbit was revealed, the girl would always try to control every part of your day and make it more human like. I mean, hello, insecure much? And I know this sounds cheesy but, do you really want to go to the trouble of loving someone who can't even accept you for who you are? Not to mention that these girls are also vapid, shallow, perky and have major tanning obsessions. **

**On the plus side, they diet a lot so if you need a quick case of healthy, salad filled blood, you know where to go. **

**Another popular dating option seems to be the intelligent, straight A, Ivy bound brainiac. And sure she's got her points. I mean smart, studious, sensible… what's not to like? Other than the fact that she's, oh yeah, _boring_. Libraries are very nice and all but me thinks claustrophobic study dates and endless books will drive you mad. And if you're crazy enough to date her than you must not have a lot of sanity to begin with. Next point: these girls have a _vicious_ side. After a few weeks, you won't be her date; you'll be her science experiment. I'll be just too tempting to poke you with sharp, pointy metal objects. **

**Also an option: that artistic, worldly, philosophical thinker. Now this is a semi possible life mate. She's fun, she's an outsider, _and_ she understands your elegant, and most likely boring, way of speaking. This is the type of girl who would understand your fondness of Spain or Rome or France and would love art as much as you. The problem is that class can only go so far. She'll want to experiment in fashion whereas you wouldn't want a date who wears a pink fedora hat with green satin tights. She'll want to drag you to go save the endangered Sumatinara male insects in Swahili whereas you'd want to write depressing poetry in a moonlit graveyard. Now do you really see this relationship happening? **


	9. Chapter 9

Journal Entry Eleven: Continued

"Your suit is ruined," I blurted, feeling my face redden as Bryan blinked in surprise. I wanted to just hit myself as I sat on the medical cot. Yes, I cannot hold an intelligent conversation. Please, don't make fun.

I looked away from his face and made myself focus on his suit instead. Gray ash covered the upper part of the tux but he looked great nonetheless. It was a pure white which oddly enough, looked nice against his tan skin. Of course it helped that he filled it out pretty well too

"No kidding, Brie?" he smirked and I looked back up to glare at him, "I was just in the middle of putting a fire out you know. Naturally, I'd be covered in ash."

"You shouldn't have been in the fire," I said, softening my glare, "How do you think I would feel if you got hurt?" Oh god, I can't really believe I said that. Please kill me now. When I finally looked up at him though, I saw that his smirk was gone and he actually looked serious.

"Your hurt too," he said softly, eyes flicking toward my injured feet which had been wrapped in white gauze to staunch the bleeding until my vampire abilities would heal them.

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand and wrapped it around mine, his thumb making small, warm circles against my palm. Maybe it was stupid, thinking about what danger we were in now, but I couldn't help but marvel over how completely amazing, how _right_, it felt. Every part of my body was attuned to him, from his smooth, cool skin, so perfectly assumed for a royal, to his scent, spicy and sweet and oddly enticing.

"I'm fine," I replied, feeling myself blush again as I changed the point, "What just happened? What's going on? Why was there an explosion? Is anyone hurt?"

That seemed to remind where we were, and who we were, because he dropped my hand before replying. I instantly felt myself miss the reassuring touch.

"No body's hurt," he answered grimly, "There was just a… disturbance made some by angry vampire. It was handled; you have nothing to worry about Brie."

Maybe it's just me, but I didn't believe half of that. Bryan was trying to keep something from me and I deserved to know what. I was the one getting attacked, I needed to know.

"You're lying to me," I accused, narrowing my eyes, "There was an explosion tonight and it wasn't handled. Tell me the truth, Bryan, why are you lying about this?"

"This is complicated Brie," he stalled, "Really, it's for the best. Please, don't make a fuss. You'll be fine." I hesitated. Bryan rarely ever says 'please' and never to me. He sounded so sure this time… Before I had enough time to make a decision, another voice cut into the silence of the room.

"Don't be a fool McMillan," a lilting voice said, "She, of all people, deserves to know the truth."

I looked up in surprise as Nathan walked in, followed by my father actually. He looked as amazing as before. Not a single thing was changed; his suit was as spotless as when we danced. For some reason, that just made me blush again but my face was already so red that I doubted anyone would notice. He didn't look over at me but I knew that he was aware of my presence.

"What do you know about that, Evans?" Bryan demanded, glaring at him. I was a bit shocked by the level of intensity in that glare but Nathan seemed to find it amusing. His smile only widened, which seemed to infuriate Bryan even more.

"Quite a considerable amount more than you, I presume," Nathan answered, before turning his gaze on me, "And despite what McMillan thinks, you need to know the truth. You're not a defenseless child, and you will one day be our queen. The fire was a distraction tonight so that he killer could get to his real target."

"Who?" I whispered, already knowing the answer in the pit of my stomach.

"Isn't it obvious," Bryan finally said, laughing bitterly. He looked at me, electric green eyes sparking with an unknown emotion.

"It's you."

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Journal Entry Twelve: August 16th

You know that part in a movie where the girl suddenly finds out that someone's out to get her and just freezes up and you yell at her to get it together and do something to keep herself safe? Well, I finally figured out how that girl felt. Everyone thinks it's just easy to get up and go on with your life even when you know that someone's out to get you. But it's never that easy.

I couldn't sleep that night.

After they told me I was the one marked to die, they just ignored me for several minutes while the discussed what to so. Well, all but Bryan who looked at me in concern, probably correctly guessing how I felt than. I didn't hear anything though; I was too caught up in shock. Within a few minutes, one of my maids came in and gently dragged me to my room. They had cleared the floor of glass shards and flecks of blood and the window was repaired, but the room seemed changed somehow.

Like it wasn't my sanctuary anymore. It wasn't the place where I chatted with Sammy as she brushed my long hair, or planned pranks with Bryan on the carpeted floor. It wasn't the place where Sam and I painted our nails a terrible zebra shade (me) and a gaudy leopard print (her). It wasn't the place where I had a pillow fight with Bryan when I was seven and he wouldn't let me play ball with him. It was a perfect copy, but it wasn't the place.

I knew that guards lined the doorway and the gardens outside but it didn't make me feel any safer. Indeed, it did just the opposite. If the killer could slip through the guards once and try to kill me, than what's to say he wouldn't do it again? I could be dead by morning for all I knew. Besides, how could the murderer be so terrible that half a dozen of my father's elit vampire guard is needed? Granted I _am_ the heir but really…

Finally, morning dawned and the bright rays of sunlight glancing through the windows illuminated the room, making it hard for me to recall the horrors of the night. Especially as something else, like Bryans slight brush of hand was being replayed through my mind dozens of times. I was just getting ready for my first lesson, and fantasizing about Bryan waltzing me across the room – hey, a girl can dream, can't she?- when Samantha came in to tell me that the queen would like a word.

Rather than take me to the thrown room though, she led me toward my parent's inner chambers. I sneaked a peek at her as we walked. She seemed oddly somber, her amber eyes dull and quiet. As we continued to walk, and she didn't speak, I finally decided to start the conversation myself.

"Are you okay?" I asked hesitantly.

"No," Samantha said, sounding surprisingly angry, "You just got attacked tonight! You could have been hurt!"

"But I wasn't," I reminded her, feeling genuinely perplexed; "I'm fine."

"That's not the point," Samantha exploded, "I completely freaked out during the attack! I should have dragged you out of the room, taken you to safety… and because I didn't you were in danger. I nearly lost my best friend, and it was all because I was a lousy drudge."

No you are not reading this wrong. This was what Sam actually said and I could instantly tell that she believed this crap because a) Sam is a _horrible _liar and b) this sounded just like the weird, noble and completely illogical logic that Sam would follow. You know you're me when your best friends start berating themselves for not being able to protect the crown princess instead of keeping themselves safe.

"You're not a lousy drudge," I disagreed; "You're my best friend and the only sane person in this castle! At least, _you _had the sense to be scared when you heard the gun shot. My own curiosity nearly killed me!" She smiled weakly.

"That's true," Sam agreed, her old, dry humor returning for a minute as she added, "Bryan didn't think so though." My head snapped up at the mention of his name.

"Bryan?" I asked, "What did he say? Did you see him?" Did he mention me, went unasked but obviously understood. Samantha just smiled innocently, proving quite again that my drudge was the unholy spawn of the devil. Being the loyal best friend she was, Sammy kept her mouth shut with unbelievably important news just to see me squirm. Well, at least she didn't laugh.

"You better go in Brie. The queen's waiting for you," she chirped, good humor miraculously restored, "Wouldn't want to keep royalty waiting now, would we?" Before I could demand that the drudge within her answer me, or better yet strangle her, Sammy turned on her heel and fled down the hall. The only sign of her presence was the chiming laugh ringing behind her.

I considered chasing after her before dismissing the idea. Sam could be unnaturally fast when she wanted to be. So instead I turned to face the doors that led me to my mother's rooms, aka the chamber of doom. I had the ridiculous urge to pray for my safety right now. I wasn't sure if I would escape the room sane.

The sad thing was, I wasn't even kidding.

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_**This was just lying around in my drafts and I figured, what the hell, why not? So I posted it today. Don't expect any more posts in this fanfic though, it's on major hiatus. **_


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